


Toodles, The Amazing Jared Fineman

by abbeytre3



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: M/M, a nessesary tag, cmon guys, does anyone reeeally use ther school email, everyone has problems, its dear evan hansen, jared centric, starts the night of the first day of school, surprise, talk about suicide, thats lik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeytre3/pseuds/abbeytre3
Summary: In which Jared messes around with emails, and Connor actually responds to those emails, creating a messy friendship, relationship, neither are quite sure.





	1. Poor Princess Roslalina

Jared Kleinman is an asshole. He’s fully aware of that. His mother said that he was born without a brain to mouth filter. He doesn’t say plenty of things, so it’s more like his impulse control is shot. The sharpest part of his honed sarcasm lashing out in the worst way. He drives people away. It’s what he does. If they’re focused on his words, on the bruises he causes to their hearts, they have no time to look at _him_ , his _little extra_ build, his thick frames, his complete and utter self-hatred.

 _If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else?_ It haunted him. Because he loved so many people, and they _hat_ —tolerated him. But if he hated himself, if he was constantly fighting a losing battle against the voices in his head, how could he even begin to think that he deserved the love of someone else?

Jared Kleinman didn’t do friends. He had camp friends and family friends, but he didn’t have true hang out on the weekend, made them himself, friends. So consequently, he had a lot of time to think, and reflect. All of his best realizations seem to happen upon him around two am, playing rainbow road mindlessly, wired but tired.

Freshman year, reflecting on the color of Evan’s eyes, _shit I’m really gay_.

A month later, thinking back on how nice it is to be trapped in the middle of a booth, how he felt safe with a warm heat on each side, Jared dropped his wiimote, _I’m poly. That’s not just gay. That’s like, advanced gay._

And now senior year, playing on his blue Switch, because fancy gifts are an equal substitute for affection, Jared came to another realization, just as Princess Daisy took a header off the track.

_Connor Murphy got hot. Not just hot but stunning. Oh God, Jared had a hair kink._

Slim legs wrapped in sinfully tight jeans, a baggy worn hoodie doing nothing to hide the physique Jared could only dream of having, and that _hair_. It was bouncy, rebelliously curling around his ears, his jaw, framing his hard angular face, always set in a scowl to ward off the world, but it might have just made him hotter. Jared didn’t know if he wanted to bang him or be him. He selects Princess Rosalina and nods to himself, both, definitely, both.

Jared pulls up his phone and fiddles with it for a few minutes, trying to enter in the right password for his school email, letting the noise of Mario passing him become background noise.

Finally, he settles onto the right combination of ThEKoolestkleinman002 and signed into J.Kleinman@hs.edu. His screen is barraged with update notifications and class announcements from not opening it for half a year. He’s sure ta in this one act on the first day of school, his is the only senior who has logged onto the hallowed inbox.

Jared is nothing if not progressive at two am. His best essays are written now, his most daring texts sent, in the advent stage between morning and night, when the demeaning voices are hushed allowing him to write his mind without doubt. The panic about what he’d done could wait until the morning.

Typing C.Murphy@hs.edu into his destination ribbon, Jared is confident that the message will never be read. Kid barely comes to class, why would he check the school regulated email? He doubts even Alana keeps up with it, and that girl is on top of everything.

Snorting softly, Jared types,

_Dear Connor Murphy,_

_Ur really hot. Like lol, I have to open my mouth and say stupid things to you so that I don’t drool hot. Like I have to make you pay attention to me hot. Like you make me run away hot._

_Thought u should kno._

_Toodles,_

_The Amazing Jared Fineman_

Jared hits send and sinks into his computer chair, giggling to himself and picking up his fallen remote. He vows to eviscerate Mario in the next round and is doing quite well, when his concentration is thrown off by his phone lighting up. Oh right, he was still signed into the email. Maybe it was a notification that school was canceled?

A stone drops into his gut at the notification, that it was in fact, a reply, from the email he sent out not five minutes ago. Jared didn’t always have his smartest ideas at two am.

_Dear Asshole,_

_Fuckk off_

_Yours Eloquently,_

_C. Murphy_

Jared didn’t know how to back off, he knew how to run, and how to enrage, and wasn’t he good at pissing off everybody who’d every cared about him? But escalation, that was his specialty. Biting into something labeled poison, Jared abandoned his game entirely, writing back and waiting with bated breath for a reply.

_Dear Connor Murphy,_

_Really tho??? I poUr my heart out to u and get it ripped out? Hurt truly. Impecably. U straigght people lik to just toy with fragile little me._

_(PS why u up. Stop smoking crack and go to bed dude)_

_Hugs and Kisses,_

_Fineman_

_Dear Asshole,_

_Stop writing me. Some of us are trying to kill ourselves here._

_(I nvr said I was straight)_

_Sincerely,_

_C. Murphy_

Jared stared at the text lain there uncaringly against a blinding white background, he wrote back, suddenly furious,

_Dear—oh fuck this, hey you!_

_No! No you cannot! Stop trying to be first you selfish asshole! I don’t want to be remembered as the copycat! Itll look like im trying to hard._

_Just blow up the school gym or something! I know Mr. Conrad’s gonna give us a pop quiz on the second day of school! HE’s eeevil,, lik, Cruella d’vil._

_Seriously don’t do it_

_JAred_

_Well Fuck you back_

_I can’t if you keep blowing up my phone. And I know he is, there’s a reason im trying to do this tonight!_

_(did you just make a musical reference? I’d fuck you)_

_Please stop replying,_

_C. Murphy_

When the most current email came back, Jared was already downstairs, grabbing his key off the rack. He scans the phone quickly, a smile lighting up his face for a split second. Connor Murphy, school shooter, is joking with him. It is, fun. He guesses that two gay losers can find something in common.

 

_Dear Connor Murphy,_

_If you don’t tell me where you are so we can get riggity riggity wwrecked together, ima go wake up ur parents._

_(U think I bottom?)_

_Already grabbing the carmel apple vodka_

_The luv of ur life_

_Dear, most annoying thing other than Zoe,_

_If u wake them up ill literally kill you. Like, make you drink nail polish. Im where we cruelly take the child of old people and eat them in front of the parents. Theyre red and round and delicious._

_(ur in denial)_

_U grabbed the nastiest most surgary shit,_

_Get wrecked son_

Jared rolls his eyes as he starts up the engine, eyeing the light in his mother’s room turn on. He would just, deal with that tomorrow, it’s not like she’ll really give a shit or something.

Was this guy related to Evan or something? What was with cute boys and _trees?_

The drive is silent, too quiet, and it lets the thoughts in that Connor doesn’t really want him there, he obviously doesn’t. Just because he jokes around, doesn’t mean he wants to see his face. Hell even Jared doesn’t want to see his own face. An intrusive thought, something usually hidden until the light of day broke, wiggles its way into the forefront of his mind, _you could hit that tree. It’d be fine. Bam! And over with. No one would even find you until the morning. No one would care, it wouldn’t’ be inconveniencing anyone._

And then Jared thinks that he should turn on the radio, but his hands are glued to the steering wheel, his neck frozen. So he continues driving, the thoughts getting louder and jumbling over themselves until he almost misses his turn. The unevenness of the dirt road send vibrations through the car, enough of a disturbance to send his thoughts scattering. He brakes suddenly with a “Muther—!” when a figure jumps in front of his headlights. Or was there the whole time. Jared doesn’t really know.

But he does recognize that mop, and he hangs out of his window, waving the bottle around, “Boi we about to get wrecked!”


	2. Don't Do Vodka Kids

 

“You’re an asshole.” Connor sniffles into the bottle, hugging the vodka to his chest.

Jared snorts, “Thanks,” laying back against their chosen apple tree, full pill bottles scattered around spilling out into the dirt. He hazily watches pink spread across the sky, infecting the inky blackness of the night.

“No like you, you don’t know how to properly handle emotions, so you lash out. Like this, this is nice, but then you say the most fucked up things.”

Jared turns his head away from the sky and squints at Connor. The boy is curled up on his side, tears running down his cheeks as he clenches the bottle much in the way a small child hugs a favorite toy.

He sighs and slumps down on the tree, sliding down the rough bark until his face is level with Connor’s, who is half in the dirt, “I emailed you. That was nice.”

Connor hiccups, “You called me hot.”

Through the warmth of the alcohol, Jared could feel the burn starting from his ears, making their way across his cheeks. He wonders if Connor notices, “Yeah I did.”

Suddenly Connor is locking much too big and hopeful eyes with him, throwing Jared back to when Evan had the same look, right before asking Jared back to his house, right before being shut down with a withering response. Jared braces himself, only for Connor to look down with a giggle that sends Jared’s heart into a furious flutter, “You _like_ me. You have a _crush_ on me!”

Jared found himself being enamored with the sing song quality of Connor’s voice, when usually the harsh grating behind gritted teeth was all that would come out.

And then, as Connor pushes himself out of the dirt and crouches over Jared, Jared finds himself enamored with a lot more than his voice. Like his lips, which were soft and chapped and _perfect_ for this moment. Which was soft and warm and comforting. The first few rays of sunlight happened upon their spot, lighting Connor up in a golden halo, his hair matted with dirt now shining in the way that only five am rays can bring. So before he can stop himself, pull back, distance, run, Jared’s hand reaches up and tangles in those golden locks, bringing Connor closer, closer, until the boy gives up on crouching and collapses into Jared, not so much supporting himself as laying on top of him as they exchange lazy chaste kisses.

Connor pulls up contently and snuggles against Jared, falling asleep with a slight tug to his lips. One hand now trapped underneath Connor’s head, Jared uses the other to work the bottle out from between them from where it was digging into his ribs.

 

“You’re an asshole,” Connor whines as Jared pokes him awake. He had lost all feeling in his arm an hour ago, but his bladder refused to be ignored.

“And you’re a very sad drunk. We didn’t get wriggity wrecked, we got emotionally destroyed.” Jared shot back, ignoring the pinging pain in his vocal chords from the copious drinking, hours before. The previously soft sunlight was now harsh and grating, feeling like it was burning his retinas out.

Leaning heavily on each other, the boys made their way over to the cars. Eyeing Connor’s drooping eyes and staggering feet Jared makes an executive decision. “Right so, you look like ass. We’re gonna head back to my place and take a nap.”

Connor grumpily shoves his face into the junction of Jared’s neck, “Mmhn no fuck off. I just napped.”

Connor is draping himself over Jared and although protested the nap seems dead set on taking one right on top of Jared. He rolls his eyes, “Tall freak.” And promptly stuffing the gangly boy into the passenger seat, Jared almost tumbles in with him when he refuses to let go. From the circle of Connor’s arms Jared clips the seat belt in and extracts himself.  

The drive is short, only about ten minutes, and with the snuffling boy strapped in next to him, the silence is never too overbearing. The trees blur by without a single longing thought.

He pulls into the driveway, his mother’s car gone, at work most likely, to pay for Jared and his reckless habits, and expensive toys and, Connor is waking up, face set in an adorable soft grumpy frown, with the seat belt causing a red line down the middle of his cheek.

“Alright Hot Topic, let’s get you into bed.”

Connor flicks Jared off, “You didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

Jared leans across and pushes the passenger door open, “I brought you vodka, good enough.”

Connor fiddles with his seatbelt for a few seconds before smiling at Jared condescendingly, “Aw you think I’m hot.”

Jared smirks patronizingly right back and swiftly releases Connor from the clip, adding a confused, “What what?”

The boy slips out of the car, his bones apparently liquid and crooned, “You called me a _hot topic_.”

Jared scrambles out, and adjusts his crooked frames, “There’s no way you didn’t catch the dig about your favorite store. No wait, hey! You are way too tired to be memeing right now. Save your energy!”

Connor twists, “Save my energy for what? This?” And then he leans down, brushing his lips against Jared’s, again. Jared uselessly stands there and allows it, blood rushing to his face and hands flapping at his sides, something that he curses Evan for pushing onto him.

 

Somehow, the two fumble their way into the house and up the stairs, exhaustion weighing them down like a sack of bricks, hitting them as soon as the bed was neigh. Letting the comforter swallow him whole, Jared barely registers the arm curling around him before losing to the oblivion.

 

Hours later the door creaks open, unbeknownst to the two boys, who are still to the world, “J-Jared? Y-your mom said I-I could come u-up?”


	3. Three boys, sitting in a dark room cuz they are gay

 

Jared put a warm hand on Connor’s thigh, silently telling the boy that he’d handle it. He heard a sleepy snuffle and felt the comforter move to cover Connor’s head. Jared sits up in the dark, the piercing light from the doorway the only illumination, and shoves his glasses onto his face, despite the spike in pain the clarity causes.

He muffles his voice behind a hand as he speaks through a yawn, “What’s up Hansen? Did your boner for the youngest Murphy finally blow and you need help adjusting to eunuch life?”

Evan sputtered, coming further into the room without turning on the light and plopping down into the computer chair, with only slight hesitation, “N-no! No it’s not _that_. It—well it does have to do with the Murphy’s but not anything, nothing like that!”

Jared could see Evan worrying the hem of his shirt and sighed internally, three minutes into conversation and Evan was ready to flee again, only held there by the need for some favor or another. Jared looks down, yup, still wearing pants, and sits on the end of his bed, subtly poking Connor’s feet aside to make him less obvious. The last thing they need is Evan having a sexuality crisis by finding out Jared’s.

Jared spread his hands magnanimously, “Alright spill. How does this have to do with the Murphy’s, if you weren’t getting your freak on?”

Evan buries his face in his hands, “Um, they came to school. Zoe’s parents. And they found me. They had found my therapy letter that Connor took and now they think it’s his last words and they can’t find Connor and they asked if we were friends, and they looked so desperate that I word vomited and said _yes_!” Evan spit words out faster and faster until he was nearly an unintelligible mess. Luckily, Jared has years of experience with Evan the walking disaster and understood _every single word_.

Jared just couldn’t help himself, he leans back on top of the Connor bundle and whispers loudly to the self-made burrito, “Dude are you hearing this shit?”

Connor rises up, hair eschew and eyes glassy, voice deep and gravely as he pouts, and all of a sudden, pouty sleep rustled Connor became Jared’s favorite Connor, “Yeah why the fuck did my parents come to school? Did they accidently put _Give a Fuck_ instead of Fiber One into their Cheerios this morning?”

Evan shoots back, evidently forgetting that Jared’s chair had wheels, like most good things in life, and slams into the desk behind him, the cracking noise starling all three of them further. Evan’s eyes, now blown impossibly wider, stands up quickly and heads for the door, “S-sorry! I-I’m going to just, I-I‘m going to go, elsewhere. Elsewhere.”

In an amazing physical feat of speed and an amazing genetic feat of length, Connor slides out of bed and barricades himself in front of the door before Evan could slip out. Connor attempts to smile at him, a rusty unused thing so starkly different from the open mouthed grins of last night, that Jared knew it so be a last ditch comforting effort and not real in any way. “Look. My parents are pushy assholes. They probably came to this conclusion and needled you until you couldn’t say anything but yes. I get it. But if you want to get out of this mess,” Connor pauses, looking like he was forcing unknown words to come to his tongue, “You’re going to have to work with us.” He settles.

Evan refuses to look up from the floor and Jared jumps in, knowing they were only a few steps away from a total Evan shutdown. “Hansen, Evan, dude, you need to sit down. Now.”

Robotically Evan follows instructions and sinks to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. A helpless laugh escapes Jared, not cruel, just a little puff of air of disbelief, but Evan still flinches further into himself regardless. Motioning to Connor, who simply locks the door and follows suit, the two of them sit on either side of the closed off boy, waiting. As the minutes tick past, Evan’s shoulders start to relax and by the light of the awake computer, Jared could see him release his death grip on his knees and unfurl.

Jared releases a breathe that he didn’t know he was holding and the three boys sit there, against the bed, in the dark room, almost comfortable with each other.

Of all people, it was Evan, in a small defeated voice, who brakes the silence, “W-What did you mean by ‘working together’?”

Connor shrugs, his shoulder brushing up against Evan’s, who didn’t flinch this time, “Well. I don’t. Have friends I mean. I didn’t even talk to Kl-Jared until he showed up to get smashed with me. And I guess you aren’t _too_ terrible.” Jared can hear the sarcasm dripping from Connor’s voice but wasn’t sure that Evan did, so he lets out a short light laugh at the quasi-joke before Connor continues, “So. If you don’t want to tell my parents that you lied. I guess we could? Be friends?”

Jared nods. He likes the sound of that. He knows that the three of them don’t have friends, and maybe this won’t be so bad. Two depressed losers and one anxious one sitting in a tree. F-A-L-L—Jared stops.

How long has Evan been climbing trees? Long enough to become a park ranger or some shit. Jared would no doubt fall and break his arm but Evan? Something wasn’t making sense.  And that something sounded an awful lot like the boy with the beautiful eyes who lied to the Murphy’s and probably lied to everyone. Because, damn. The thought wouldn’t leave Jared alone.

Jared broke out of his thoughts and stared at Evan, who was entranced by Connor scribbling vines onto his cast as ‘real friends do’, “Evan.”

The boy jumps, almost yanking his arm out of Connor’s light grip and turns questioningly to Jared.

He points to the cast, and says the words, tasting like ash on his tongue, “Were you an acorn or a clipped bird?”

Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit. That’s not what he meant to say. He fucked up again. Concern laced with jokes, serious questions turned into nonsensical metaphors.  Evan remained puzzled but Connor’s face morphed into one of understanding, then horror, pulling on Evan’s arm to catch his attention.

Connor started, much more succinct, “What the asshole meant to say. Is. Did you fall or let go?”

Evan’s face paled, but he managed, “If you fall in a forest and there’s nobody around, does it matter?”

And then his face scrunches up and oh, Evan is crying, and by the salty wetness of his cheeks, damnit Jared is crying. And then his arms move independently of his mind and suddenly he’s holding Evan tightly, too tightly, but neither seem to mind. Because Evan might be a friend, a family friend, but damnit Jared doesn’t have much of either and he can’t lose the few he’s got.


	4. Sincerely Me

 

Jared feels arms encircle over his, and realizes that Connor turned this into a group hug. Sniffling and pulling back, Jared lets his arms drop and the other two pull back as well. They stare at each other in the led light and Jared monotonously reaches up and flicks the light switch, closing his eyes at the last second and taking slight joy in the fact that the other two probably flinched back. Opening them, he is met with Evan’s hunched shoulders and Connor’s glower. The glower is not nearly as cute as the pout was.

Jared held up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, sorry.” and completely not meaning it, if his sharp grin was anything to go by. Jared wipes the remaining moisture from his eyes and cracks his back, “Evan. What exactly do the glorious Murphy overlords think happened to our fluffy buddy?”

Jared had to duck a lazily swinging head slap from Connor and a half-hearted, “M’not fluffy,” though his hair would beg to differ.

Evan relaxes his shoulders and scooches closer to Connor, who has gone back to sketching on the cast, now outlining his name with a blue sharpie and clouds, Jared secretly though he was going for a Jack in the Beanstalk motif. “Um well, oh my god. Holy f-fuck.”

Jared’s head, which had been cradled in his hand due to raging light provoked headache, shot up, and even Connor pauses in his scribbling to stare at the now tomato red boy.

“I-I mean, um, not that. Sorry. I just mean, well… they think he’s… _dead_.” The small whisper whips through the still room.

Connor intently stares at the cast in his hand and goes back to roughly filling in the blank space, “That’s nothing new.” He mutters, “They think I’ve killed myself every other weekend.”

Jared moves forward and completes the circle, bumping his shoulder warningly into Connor’s, “Dude. This is the truth circle now. No one leaves it telling a falsehood.”

Connor flops his head onto Jared’s shoulder and mumbled through the fabric of his t-shirt.

Jared nudges Connor’s head with his own, “Sorry didn’t hear that.”

Connor lifts his head and quickly presses his lips to Jared’s, who threads fingers in Connor’s long hair and deepens it, ignoring Evan’s soft meep in the background.

He nips Jared’s lip and pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against Jared’s, locking eyes, “I’m a self-destructive stoner who tried to take a few too many pills. My parents think I’m gone, and they could have very well been right, if it weren’t for this asshole right here.”

Evan inhales sharply, and Jared breaks eye contact to peek at him. His eyes are glimmering suspiciously, highlighting their gorgeous color, lips bitten and god did Jared wish it was because of him. Damnit he is so gay. With one boy nearly on top of him, he should not be fantasizing about the worlds most anxious mess! Though, if he could get the best of both worlds… focus serious conversation, right.

By the time Jared clocked back in, Connor and Evan had some kind of quiet communication and Evan was looking at Jared for approval, though this was inevitably more important than if he could sit with Jared at lunch. He is feeling very lost. Jared blinks, “What?”

Connor snorts, “Your computer asshole. Go get it.”

Before Jared even sat back down, Connor had taken Evan under his arm and into his side, almost cuddling the boy. If the squinting is anything to go by, Connor is still not feeling a hundred percent. Probably closer to twenty. Jared was nice for once for his… boy, and hit the dimmer switch before rejoining the circle. Connor gratefully smiled at him, a soft real one that made something in Jared’s stomach flutter.

“Now what are we doing?” Jared asks while booting up the laptop.

He get no answer as Connor just steals it and starts typing in passcodes, and then opening something and furiously typing, “Dear Evan Hansen, we’ve been way to out of touch. Things have been crazy and it sucks that we don’t talk that much. But I should tell you that I think of you each night, I rub my nipples and start moaning with delight—”

Evan demands, “Why would you write that?” smacking Connor’s arm before furiously apologizing.

Connor lets out a light laugh “I thought it was funny!”

Jared stuttered, “W-wait! Connor’s here. You don’t need to make up letters or whatever. That’s not ho normal people become friends!”

Connor blows him a kiss, “We’re not normal sweetie. That’s how we became friends.”

Jared grumbled and popped his chin over Connor’s shoulder to watch the two create a mess of backdating and hilariously formal email chains.


End file.
